


Divinity in Modern Humanity

by Mizz Incezt (ziasann)



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: 21st Century, Alcohol and Cigarettes, Based on Real-Life happenings, Consequences of Immortality, F/M, Modern Gods AU, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 16:30:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20118124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziasann/pseuds/Mizz%20Incezt
Summary: “Are we still gods, Apollo? Or are we just gods in names and titles?” Artemis asked.“...If he was born back then, I could have asked him to accompany us in Olympus.”“He’d still die. Everyone linked to us dies, one way or another.”Artemis bent to his level and lifted his chin, directly, straightforwardly prying into his vulnerable state. His deepest desire unconsciously slipping out like his tears.“I don’t want to be an immortal anymore, Artemis.”





	Divinity in Modern Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> This is for you, Nerissa, and also, Dee who were always there for my Apollo/Artemis bullshit.

_“Modernity has failed us.” -The 1975, Love It If We Made It_

* * *

They adapted quickly to the change the 21st Century brought them. 

As expected of gods and holy divinities, chariots turned to supercars, drachmas became dollars, and white chitons were replaced by denim jackets. 

Apollo had no problems with the new environment, after all, _the survival of the fittest_ was the game. He can handle the metamorphosis from a knowledgeable deity to a rocket machine landing on the moon.

Speaking of his sister, the traditional, nature-loving goddess of the Moon, she had a hard time processing this all.

Yet Artemis, who struggled to accept this new reality at most, was also the one that changed drastically out of every immortal.

Apollo wished he never witnessed it, but he was the closest to her. Thus, the only other person to notice it much earlier than Artemis herself.

_ ******* _

He was adjusting the tune of his Fender acoustic guitar as he waited for sunrise. He almost couldn’t see the rays of Helios due to the growing skyscrapers and buildings but the hues of dawn began painting the sky in indigo and tangerine. 

Apollo heard tires screeching to a stop, a car door slammed, and keys slotting to open their apartment. 

He didn’t want to look at Artemis as she entered.

“Brother,” the ‘r’ slurs, and she reeked of alcohol and Winston. “Do you have aspirins?”

“It’s in the kitchen drawers.” The E string of the guitar sounded off as Apollo plucked it. He twisted the pegs again.

Just as he was about to glide his fingers over the strings again, a heavy thud together with a rattle similar to maracas spurs him out of the moment. 

The acoustic guitar was set aside immediately and Apollo ran towards the kitchen.

Artemis was laying on the cold black tiles. She was surrounded by aspirins poured from the mouth of its bottle, it almost looked like stars accompanying her head from this view.

He froze at the epiphany, he knew how Artemis missed her shining stars and constellations long clouded by pollution.

Artemis turned and picked up the pill nearest to her. She raised the tablet clumped by her thumb and forefinger, her hazy eyes focusing on it. Apollo knew Artemis didn’t see the medicine as it is, it was something else -maybe her luminescent moon, or explosive stars, or the rare gems of Olympus.

“Dionysus was shocked when he saw me at the bar, Apollo.” She giggled. “He pretended he didn’t see me and went on his way.”

“Sister,” Apollo took a few steps nearer to her.

“Is it so hard for everyone to believe I am alive and living?” Artemis dropped the pill as Apollo sat beside her and pulled her wrist to embrace the warm body.

“They just didn’t expect to see you since we travel most of the time.” He answered and drew circles on Artemis’s back. Her hands grappled its way to the back of his shoulders, her head next to his neck.

“Brother, I feel so human.”

There was hot liquid staining his shirt, still, Apollo brushed his fingers over the tangled auburn strands of his sister.

“It feels like that sometimes.”

“The party was nowhere near to Olympus’s banquets. Even when Dionysus was there.” She exhaled and her breathing soon evened. The tears stopped drenching his white shirt. Tiny snores escaped from his sister. 

The sun had risen moments ago, but no, it never reached them. The blinds were closed in the kitchen. He carried Artemis back to their messy bedroom.

As he covered his sister with a blanket, he knelt by her bedside and watched the marks of her tears in her cheeks.

“No matter where we go, Olympus doesn’t exist anymore.” He whispered, weight crashing on his lids.

_The only haven we got is each other._

* * *

Another music artist’s obituary came upon the New York Times. An EDM player who committed suicide, died while still composing songs. Apollo loved the lyrics of his music, _"One day you'll leave this world behind, so live a life you will remember."_

The artist did leave the world behind, and the world remembered him for it.

Apollo stood in the abandoned alleyway beside the pub, staring at the pavement where the lad probably cut his wrist with a broken wine bottle.

That’s how Artemis found him. With the moon illuminating the shadow of his silhouette solid, unmoving as Apollo crouched down and touched the dust which was surely the boy’s final company. 

“His name starts with A, Avi, Avic- I forgot. He loved music and took his own life here.” Apollo did not spare Artemis a look but he can feel her midnight blue irises zeroed on his back.

“...Is this why you want to come here in Muscat?” His sister petted his mane as Apollo maimed the ground using his bare knuckles. He hoped the ichor will mix with the blood of a young spirit dried in there.

“To pay respect. I failed as the god of music.” He glanced up at his sister, -dearest, sweetest, and soulless Artemis who was pale and glowing with the moonlight in her skin. 

She stopped threading her fingers over his dirty golden hair and wiped the tear at the corner of his eyes before it even escapes.

“Are we still gods, Apollo? Or are we just gods in names and titles?” Artemis asked. That’s when he hugged her knees and bowed down, his visage blurring.

“...If he was born back then, I could have asked him to accompany us in Olympus.” 

“He’d still die. Everyone linked to us dies, one way or another.”

Artemis bent to his level and lifted his chin, directly, straightforwardly prying into his vulnerable state. His deepest desire unconsciously slipping out like his tears.

_“I don’t want to be an immortal anymore, Artemis.” _

“Then, let’s be human for a while.” She offered and her face was so close, menthol wafted over his nose. Her forehead collided with his and he closed his eyes.

No, it wasn’t on the lips. Her kisses glided over the tear-stain tracks, underneath his eyelashes, like she wanted to erase the fact that he was sad over the death of a mortal. 

It took the dissipation of Hellenism, the suicide of a musician, and stripping off their divinity before their story finally unveiled. The eons worth vow of celibacy thrown in the dirty air, given to the only man worthy of her. 

Underneath the lunar eclipse, on the place where somebody died, two siblings -two lovers, two souls helplessly intertwined after all these centuries, became one.

“Artemis, Diana, Phoebe, my twin,” He chanted on her lips, her back on the wall, his hands on her cheek and thigh. “I’m sorry for being selfish.”

The only reply he received was a peck and an invitation to the nearest motel.

* * *

He dreamed they were back in Delos. Very far from the days and nights where planes and fog littered the sky. The sun was high and the forest was lush with its viridian trees.

Their hands cannot let go of each other. Even when his head pillowed her lap as she sang a lullaby their mother taught them in her womb. He almost forgot this type of serenity, this tranquility where they pretend no deity can see them.

“Sometimes, I wish you’re my lover,” Apollo whispered as he nuzzled her womb. The song she was singing cut off. He looked up at the sudden action and inherently noticed the unfocused gaze.

“You know we can’t, Apollo, I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss on the back of his hand and disappeared in a gust of wind.

He cursed himself, _of course_, no matter how deep and real their feelings develop, her oath will always be effective on her.

“Why did you wish to be a virgin, my sister, when we both know we’d fall for each other?”

Apollo queried the silent forest. No doubt Artemis heard his wish for this was her domain. 

He wondered if he’d hear Artemis answer.

_ ******* _

He woke up in a maroon double-sized bed, a space beside him. 

Naked and groaning, Apollo sat by the edge of the bed, recalling what happened last night. His sock was on the floor, the other missing. His sister’s blouse was atop the chair, few of its buttons ripped off. Bottles of Heineken in a plastic bag adorned the coffee table. He can’t remember when those appeared because last time he checked, he was drunk on sorrow and grief, not alcohol when he made love to Artemis.

“_Fuck, _Artemis!”

The scent of smoke coated the air-conditioned room and he sprinted to the source. He grabbed his boxers and wore it before opening the door of the bathroom. 

Clothed only in his short-sleeved polo that’s two sizes larger than her, Artemis puffed out gray smoke from the cigarette on her fingers. An unfinished beer in front of her.

She met his scrutiny with red-rimmed eyes and forced out a chuckle. Apollo observed her whole again, dry lips and hair astray in various directions. Her feet were bare and skin too white, alcohol clung to her like a perfume. She doesn’t have underwear beneath that shirt and Apollo knew it. Different from the Artemis in his recent dream. 

He caught a glimpse of his figure on the bathroom mirror. Matted, darkened mustard hair, and tanned skin. His chiseled form long untaken care of were now baby fats. His eyes, oh, his all-seeing, all-knowing, and bright sky blue eyes. He doesn’t see the spark anymore. Different from the Apollo in his golden age.

They were not who they were anymore.

They were different. 

“Apollo,” Artemis held out her hand in an offer and Apollo took it without hesitation. She tugged and signaled him to seat in front of her. The bottle of beer separating the two of them. “Don’t feel guilty, please.”

“I wanted this for the whole time, Artemis. Yet I wish things were different, you know?”

She nodded in understatement. He chugged the Heineken in one gulp and set it down. Heat blossomed from his core. The high was nowhere near ambrosia and nectar but if it was the only thing to forget the empty feeling inside, he’d consume it.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Apollo hastily grabbed her hand and Artemis dropped her cigarette. The stub burning her thighs a bit. A frantic look shadowed his expression. She gawked at such sight of him.

“Don’t disappear.” He pleaded. Artemis smiled with her lips full of smoke and sorrow as she promised.

“I won’t.” 

They stayed there for a while. In the middle of the bathroom with nicotine as their oxygen. In a motel where they don’t know who they were and their names for a split second. Their hands tightly intertwined as they planned where they’d head next. 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos and comments below if you liked it!


End file.
